


Even If.

by ArticulateOx



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, fanfic of a fanfic, ox writes - Freeform, past mentions of non-con but no actual non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArticulateOx/pseuds/ArticulateOx
Summary: Yondu hasn't been the same since the crew got him back from a job gone bad. Kraglin doesn't quite know what to do, but he knows something has to be done.





	Even If.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nobody's Fault](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/313116) by Write-like-an-american. 



The battle wasn’t short. It was exhausting, and after they were back on the ship, it was all Kraglin could do to keep from collapsing into bed and sleeping for the next three cycles. The main thing that kept him from rest was that the battle wasn’t quite over yet. Everything hurt, his shoulders, legs, neck, it all ached from the adrenaline-induced frenzy caused by the melee. And the crew was grumbling, and there were whispers of mutiny in the ranks. On top of all that the image of Yondu, beaten and chained in a cell still haunted Kraglin every time he blinked.

 

A job had gone bad. Peter and Yondu had been captured. Kraglin had had to lead the  rescue party. The crew kept up a safe perimeter on the ship. A few went off to search for Peter, while Kraglin himself hacked into Yondu’s cell. The split second after the door opened, as he took in the scene before him, and pieced together the past, was burned into his mind even now. He didn’t need to ask Yondu what had happened. Somewhere he had found a blanket, wrapped it around Yondu’s shoulders, and lead him back to the  _ Eclector _ , out of the way of blaster fire. 

The whispers of mutiny had set in when the crew realized it had been three cycles since the rescue mission, and Kraglin was still the one who was leading them. Word had gotten back to Yondu, and he conveniently healed in time to stride out of his quarters, barking orders, blustering threats, and clouting crewmates upside the ears. 

 

They all slipped back into their normal routine, the talk of mutiny died down, and everything seemed alright. 

 

Yet here Kraglin was, sitting in his cabin, turning over a little plastic toy in his hands, hoping he wasn’t reading into it too far. He put it back on his shelf, along with the other five toys. Ever since Yondu had stepped out of his room, every few cycles, Kraglin would find one of his captain’s little trinkets sitting by his cabin door. Under any other circumstances, Kraglin would have felt honored, but the gifts didn’t fit how Yondu was acting towards Kraglin. 

 

Yondu had been distant, and cold. He seemed to be avoiding Kraglin like the plague. He didn’t make eye contact, he didn’t talk to Kraglin, he didn’t touch him, or even hang around in the same room as him. Yet he gave Kraglin toys. After each cold shoulder, Yondu’s hoard of trinkets diminished, and Kraglin lost a bit of shelf space. 

 

Kraglin put his newest little toy with the others, and stared at them. 

 

There they were. Yondu’s awkward cries for help that he didn’t know how to express in any other way.

 

Kraglin didn’t have to ask what was going on, he didn’t need to, but he had no idea what to do now. At least now he knew the definition of ‘mixed signals’, though.

 

He couldn’t corner Yondu for a private talk, especially not after Yondu had been cornered and chained, but he didn’t want to ask his questions in front of the crew, either. He tried to think up scenarios where they could maybe be doing some daily task together, and he could casually bring it up, but it fell apart as he realized no matter what he did, Yondu would avoid him, and send someone else. He tried to think positive. Maybe he was assuming things. Yondu had been captured before, sure, and it had taken a few days for them to get back into their groove. Maybe Kraglin needed to be the one to take initiative. Some romance, perhaps. A candle-lit date, here in his cabin tomorrow night. 

 

The plan was flimsier than the standard Ravager undershirt, but he was out of ideas, and full of worries.

 

Some romance, and a lot of Romulan ale.

 

\---

 

Yes, of course he’d been avoiding Krags. Yes, Yondu didn’t know any other way to show affection other than giving his toys away, and sex. And yes, he knew a talk was coming up, he was practically  _ hoping _ it would come up, but past experience proved that Kraglin knew more about starting these conversations, so he was simply waiting. 

 

So here he was, drinking in the galley with the rest of the crew, avoiding Kraglin, and simultaneously hoping, and dreading the impending discussion. Because, of course, avoiding someone was the best way to start a deep, private talk with them. 

 

Yondu knew exactly how much sense that logic made, but he kept looking for his answers at the bottom of his pint glasses. All he found was a bitter taste, and a warm feeling, spreading from his gut that quieted the anxious worries that were pestering him. 

 

The galley was dim, which was perfect, because everyone was either hungover or about to be. The crew milled about, and there was the usual drone of chatter broken occasionally by a hooting guffaw, or an exclamation as some mate rediscovered gravity. Every once in awhile, someone a few tables over would start a galley song, and that kept Yondu pleasantly distracted. Then someone else would launch into a story about a recent heist, and Yondu would ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ along with the rest of the listeners. After a few more sips of beer, and a few tall tales, he had nearly forgotten about what he had been worrying over.

 

The worries came flashing back as he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, and a gentle whisper in his ear.

 

“Meet me in my cabin tonight. Don’t drink too much here, I’ll have some ale waiting for you there.”

 

Krags kissed the air next to Yondu’s cheek, and gave his shoulder a pat before turning and weaving his way back through the crowd. 

 

The crew at Yondu’s table giggled and elbowed each other about Kraglin’s little message. A few dared to elbow their captain, but Yondu kept his eyes on the table. He didn’t have the energy to snap at them, because he was too busy trying to keep the lump in his stomach under control. He wanted this talk, and he wanted to spend time with Krags, but he also wanted to hop aboard the M-ship and never look back. 

 

At least he didn’t have to wait now. He didn’t need to worry about  _ when _ it would happen, now he could simply focus on the fact it was, indeed, going to happen. He didn’t feel any better about it, and he wasn’t about to enjoy it, but at least he knew.

 

Another pint of beer helped soften the shock. Somehow, the galley seemed louder, everyone was suddenly very annoying, and there were too many people. He jostled his way to the corridor that lead to his cabin, and slowly started walking to his bunk. Once the door closed behind him, he looked around his cabin. 

 

Technically it was bigger than Kraglin’s, which was why this was their standard rendezvous spot, but it seemed small because of the clutter. Normally, he just ignored the mess, but now, with everything else happening, it was nearly overwhelming. He tried to ignore it, and sat on the edge of his bunk to untie his laces. He kicked them into the pile of dirty clothes, and reached to fish around under his bunk for his felt shoes. He took his jacket off, and it joined the boots in the laundry pile.

 

He wanted to get out of his room, but he also wanted an excuse to possibly postpone his date with Kraglin. Maybe he could message Krags and say he was going to clean his room… The only problem with that was that he had to actually clean his room, which he didn’t want to even try starting. 

 

Yondu rubbed his face, trying to buck himself up.  _ Krags just wanted to talk. And he said there would be drinks. Krags just wanted some drinks with his good ol’ captain. _

 

Opening his own door had never been more difficult. Kraglin’s cabin was literally just down the corridor, yet it took so blasted long to get there. Depending on one’s opinion, the cause was either one long detour, or lots of short detours. There was a quick trip to the bathroom, that ended with Yondu splashing water in his face to help him sober up. Then a detour to the nearest intercom to check in with the Bridge crew, see if they needed anything, or if there were any problems. Then another detour to the storage closet, because a light in the corridor was flickering, and if you want something done right and all. Another detour to the bathroom again, and finally one last detour right in front of Kraglin’s door. He stood there, for a long while, awkwardly raising, and lowering his knuckles to knock on the door. 

 

Kraglin finally opened the door, and smiled, like he had been expecting this.

 

“Come on in.”

 

Kraglin had all his clothes on--the standard sweatpants, undershirt, and felt shoes--but the more Yondu looked around at the few candles and the scent-vapor dispenser humming by the bed, he got the sinking feeling that Krags didn’t intend to stay clothed for long. Romantic music was playing softly. A sheer fabric had been thrown over the lamp by the bed to provide some pleasant mood lighting, and two short, rounded glasses sat on the table with a bottle of the promised ale.

 

The door hissed to a close behind Yondu. He had to fight to keep from flinching when Kraglin put a hand on his lower back to guide him to his bunk. Yondu promised himself he’d try to play along, but his inner monologue was a mess of a hundred panicked thoughts at once.

 

_ He couldn’t do this, he wasn’t ready. The scars were too fresh, and they hadn’t fully healed. He looked hideous, he was sure. It was too soon. He couldn’t do this. _

 

Krags sat with him on the edge of the bunk, and slowly leaned over, pressing against Yondu’s shoulder. Kraglin was hoping he had been wrong about his suspicions, and that maybe something like this might loosen Yondu up, but he was being proven wrong. Yondu was as stiff and cold as ever as Kraglin began leaving cautious kisses up from his neck to his cheek. Kraglin tried one last kiss on the corner of Yondu’s mouth. He pulled back when Yondu flinched at the kiss.

 

“Yondu,” he tried to find the balance between firm and gentle, “please talk to me… We don’t need to talk about what happened, just  _ talk _ to me… About anything.”

 

Yondu coughed, but his voice was husky, and low, “You said there’d be ale?”

 

Kraglin stifled a sigh. After all, it was  _ something _ . He reached over and passed a glass over to Yondu, then took a swig of his own. He was going to need it. 

 

They sat there for a few, awkwardly silent moments, simply two crewmates, sharing a drink. They were close, but only spatially. Both were wrapped up in their own thoughts, and a million miles away from each other, and a romantic room. 

 

Kraglin let a few sips go by, then looked sidelong to Yondu. He reached over and put a hand on Yondu’s thigh, “Listen-”

 

_ “Don’t touch me!” _

 

Kraglin’s glass flew across the room and clinked against the shelf before rolling across the floor. Both his and Yondu’s ale was spilled across half the cabin.

 

Yondu was coiled up on one side of the bunk, his knees pulled up to his chest. Kraglin had flinched back to the other side, panting a little from the surprise, and confusion. The kick had come out of nowhere, and he could feel a dull pain on his arm where Yondu had shoved him away.

 

After they both took a moment to figure out what had happened, Kraglin yelled right back.

 

_ “Fine!” _ he grabbed his pillow, and smacked Yondu’s legs, then kept yelling, “but stop being such a fratakin’ shithead! Don’t  _ kick _ me when I’m trying to flarkin’  _ read your Polaris-cursed mind _ and figure out how to  _ help you!” _ the pillow hit Yondu in the face this time, “and don’t shut me out like I don’t know what’s going on, or what went on!” The anger in Kraglin’s voice cracked, and he grew quieter, “Don’t pretend like I can’t guess what happened… I’m just trying to help you, you stupid fool…” he looked away and tried to compose himself, then threw a hand in the air, “and that was bottled ale! That weren’t no replicator shit, that cost me credits!”

 

Kraglin sat on the edge of the bunk and tried to breathe, but that was a bit hard to do with his nose running the way it was.

 

Neither really knew what to do next.

 

Yondu tossed the pillow at Kraglin’s shoulder, and mumbled, “That’s no way to yell at your captain.”

 

It was a formality. Yondu was simply saying it for the sake of saying it, and for the sake of breaking the awkward silence.

 

Kraglin growled back, “For the past few cycles, my captain’s been avoiding me, and trying to substitute himself in  _ toys _ .” he looked up at Yondu, and neither one hid their tears. 

 

Then Kraglin saw Yondu’s arm moving, and noticed he had been raking his  nails down his shoulder and arm. Kraglin knew what that meant. He threw the pillow lightly at Yondu’s hand, and grunted, “Hey, stoppit.”

 

Yondu grumbled, and flexed his fingers, trying to keep himself from scratching. He could feel a layer of grime on his skin and he wanted to scratch it off. Kraglin’s presence was the only thing keeping him from raking his arm bloody. His stomach felt like it was imploding in on itself. He didn’t know where to start, there was a lot he had to get off his chest, and it was all swimming together in one confusing mess. He tried to solve the muddle in his mind, and his desire to peel his skin off by downing the ale that had managed to stay in his glass.  _ It really was quality ale. _

 

Kraglin inhaled to say something, but Yondu was already blurting out the first cognitive thought that had come to mind.

 

“They had Peter hostage.”

 

Kraglin closed his mouth, and processed what Yondu had said. He reached a hand out, “Keep talking if you want. Lemme refresh that drink.”

 

Krags puttered around the small cabin, cleaning up the spilled ale, pouring new ale for both of them. He turned off the scent vaper, but kept the lights low. Low lighting was a bit more calming, and they could both pretend like they didn’t know the other was crying. 

 

Yondu simply talked. He spoke in short, detached sentences, with as little emotion as possible. Kraglin filled in any gaps.

 

When Yondu began to get specific, Kraglin put the cleaning aside, and quietly sat on the other side of the bunk. He made sure to keep his distance, but he didn’t want Yondu to feel alone. It was a struggle to keep from trying to comfort him physically, and the more Kraglin heard, the angrier he became, and the more he wanted to hug Yondu. 

 

There was a pause as Yondu finished off his story. Kraglin looked to make sure he wasn’t crying too much, then realized his glass was empty. 

 

“You want another drink or…?” he asked, gently.

 

Yondu shrugged, and looked blankly at his glass. He set it up on the shelf above Kraglin’s bunk. He drew a deep, shaking breath and clenched his jaw. Kraglin could see he was working on a thought, so he kept quiet.

 

Yondu shrugged, “And so… after all that, you know… I wasn’t all-fired keen on jumpin’ in the sack with you, or anyone. And I avoided you because, well… I didn’t quite know how this talk was going to go. But I still, you know,” he bobbled his head, “I still wanted to romance you and all, so I just started givin’ you those.” Yondu jerked his head up at the shelf where a half-dozen of his nicknacks shared space with his ale glass.

 

Kraglin glanced at his little shelf of toys, then back at the floor. With a sigh, he leaned back against the wall. He finished off the last bit of his ale, then asked Yondu permission, “Can I ask a question?”

 

Yondu grunted.

“Why were you worried about how this talk would go? I mean, I’ve known you for a while, and I know you try to bottle things up, but you always feel better when we drink it out.”

 

Yondu glanced at the floor, “Because I… I wasn’t quite sure… how you’d react, after I told you. I didn’t know if you’d… tolerate me, still…”

 

Kraglin gave a dry laugh and put his glass up on the other side of the shelf, “I’ve ‘tolerated’ you through thick and thin, Yondu. There’s not much you could do that would make me find you intolerable.”

 

Yondu’s mouth twitched in a possible grin, but he kept his eyes down.

 

Kraglin looked up at the ceiling and muttered mostly to himself, “It does make me wish we’d killed the bastards slower, though.” and by Orion’s belt, he meant that. He tried to keep it hidden, but he desperately wanted to know how much pain a cyborg could live through, and how much it would take to kill them.

 

Yondu straightened his leg out, and nudged Kraglin’s thigh, “Hey… thanks, Krags.”

 

Kraglin smiled at him, and they exchanged a small moment of pleasantness. 

 

Then Kraglin actually got to thinking about what Yondu had said. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t fully understood what Yondu had meant by ‘tolerating’ earlier.

 

“Yondu, I love you.”

 

Yondu’s eyes snapped up to look at Kraglin’s, but his face remained emotionless as Kraglin continued.

 

“... and like I don’t care what you do, or what’s been done to you. I don’t care if I never get to touch you again, I just… I’m not going to stop loving you every time something bad happens.” Kraglin shook his head, “no number of scars will change that… And you can keep your little collectables, if it’s all the same to you, I just want to share a drink with you every now and then.”

 

Yondu’s face was still emotionless, but Kraglin could swear he saw a tear or two, and that his jaw was just a little bit firmer. 

 

Yondu got up, and went straight to the cabin door. A husky, “Wait ‘ere for a sec.” was Kraglin’s only indication that he hadn’t said something wrong. Even still, he sat there, incredibly confused and rather dumbfounded as Yondu padded out, and down the corridor. He shifted uncomfortably but he soon heard Yondu coming back, and looked expectantly at the door. 

 

An armful of bedding preceded Yondu through the door. Kraglin quickly scooted to the side of the bed as Yondu dumped his wad of blankets, and pillows down on Kraglin’s cot.

 

Kraglin opened his mouth, “Uuuh…”

 

“I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

 

“Yes. Of course. Alright then.” Kraglin nodded, as confused as ever. Last he checked, Yondu didn’t want to be touched, and it wasn’t a big cot.

 

He stood to the side as Yondu mussed with the blankets and ‘made’ the bed. Yondu hopped in, and made himself comfortable on the wall side. He looked up at Krags.

 

“Get in.”

 

Kraglin obeyed orders, and wormed his way under the blankets, trying to keep a safe distance from Yondu, and keeping his arms stiffly to his sides.

 

“Hold me, Krags.”

 

Kraglin looked at Yondu, who was looking stoically at the ceiling, “Yondu, you don’t have to push yourself-”

 

“I said flarking hold me, Krags.”

 

Without a second protest, Kraglin rolled to his side, and stretched his arms out, trying to figure out how to go about it. Eventually, after some of the most awkward shifting, Kraglin got his arms wrapped loosely around Yondu’s torso. 

 

It was horribly awkward. Neither one of them was going to get any sleep, anytime soon. And yet, they both needed this.

 

Kraglin was stiff, and just a little bit scared, but he had missed holding onto Yondu, and sleeping with him. Granted, his ass was hanging off the edge of the bed, and he was worried about Yondu possibly having a flashback in his sleep, but damn if he hadn’t missed Yondu’s warmth, and his smell.

 

Yondu’s spine was rigid, and he was one deep thought away from a panic attack. He was painfully, and acutely aware of everywhere Kraglin was touching him, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stand the whole night like this. But he knew he had to get past this, he  _ wanted _ to get past this. He loved Kraglin too, and he didn’t want one bad job to dictate how they spent their relationship. He clenched his jaw, and forced himself to relax out of sheer stubbornness. 

 

At some point, Yondu called it quits, and started voicing some displeasure. Kraglin took his arms away, and they both lay there.

 

They didn’t touch after that, but they managed to sleep in the same bed.

 

\---

 

Kraglin was laying on his back with an arm and leg hanging off the edge. Yondu was spread out next to him, and a blue arm was resting on top of his chest.

 

Kraglin looked over, and was relieved to see Yondu sleeping peacefully, thank the stars. He had been concerned that having a bedmate would keep Yondu up at night, but if the motoring snores were anything to tell by--

 

Suddenly Kraglin had different problems.

 

He had to piss. A lot.

 

He glanced back at Yondu, then back to the door to his cabin’s latrine. He was sure that moving Yondu’s arm would be enough to wake him, and Kraglin wanted Yondu to sleep as much as possible. But Kraglin knew if he didn’t get to that latrine in a few ticks, Yondu was going to have a less pleasant wake up call than just being jostled a bit. Maybe if he just shimmied out from under his arm, he was already half on the floor, after all.

 

Kraglin was just starting to carry out that plan when Yondu mumbled in his sleep, and shifted to curl around Kraglin tightly. At any other time, Kraglin would have loved Yondu hiking a leg up over his hip like he was now, but in the moment, Kraglin was barely on the mattress, and didn’t want to stay for long.

 

His mind was racing, trying to calculate a solution where Yondu could stay asleep, and he could make it to the latrine in time. But Yondu shifted again, and started talking.

 

“‘M sorry Krags… ‘m sorry for everythin’. I shoulda talked sooner… I dunno why I tried avoiding this for so long… I really don’t deserve you, mate.”

 

Yondu squeezed his arms around Kraglin’s shoulders, and buried his head into Kraglin’s back, but Kraglin was still looking for a quick exit. At least now he didn’t have to worry about waking Yondu up, “That’s okay, Yondu, really, don’t worry about it--”

 

“No, Krags, it’s not okay… I really don’t tell you how much you matter to me enough… I wanted to talk sooner, I just didn’t know how to get the first sentence out, y’know?”

 

“It’s okay, really! Now cap’n, um--”   
  


“I know Krags, and I love you too, but could we put this on pause for a bit? I just realized I need to take a leak.”

 

“ _ My room, my bathroom!” _ Kraglin managed to push Yondu’s arms away, and flopped onto the floor, and Yondu looked up just in time to see the latrine door close.

A few minutes later, Kraglin staggered out of the bathroom, and Yondu staggered in. Kraglin dropped into bed, which he instantly regretted doing. While he was waiting for his head to stop swimming and throbbing, he sniffed.  _ Yes, the bed smelled like Yondu. _ Kraglin had missed that.

 

When Yondu came out of the latrine, Kraglin rolled over into the cot, and they both settled back into bed, with Kraglin on the wall side, this time. The mattress bounced as Yondu flopped over onto his side, hugging Kraglin again.

 

Now that they had gotten most everything out of their systems, both emotionally, and physically, there was not much else to do, other than lay in bed. Sure, at some point, the crew would come looking for them, but enough mates saw Kraglin invite Yondu to his cabin, that they would draw enough conclusions to keep them busy. This meant Yondu and Kraglin could simply lay there, and rest for quite a long while, and that’s exactly what they did.

 

They didn’t talk a lot, for everything had already been said. Yondu was still acutely aware of wherever his skin was in contact with Kraglin’s, but since he was the one who was hugging, it was less of an issue. He could feel Kraglin’s heartbeat, and pressed his cheek to Krags’ chest. It was so odd, to know what another’s heart sounded like. 

 

Kraglin smiled, Yondu’s face was perfectly relaxed, but Kraglin could tell he was trying to listen closely to his heartbeat. He wanted to reach his arms up around Yondu and hold him closer, but knew that wouldn’t end romantically. He closed his eyes, and breathed, knowing Yondu was listening.

 

After a few breaths, and a few quiet moments of peace, Kraglin remembered, “So you were saying something about how much you love me, and how you don’t deserve me?” he leaned down and kissed Yondu’s forehead.

 

Yondu flinched, and grumbled, “Mmmh, no. No kisses… not yet, at least.”

 

Kraglin’s stomach curdled a little, worried, “Sorry… I um… I wasn’t thinkin’ and all-”

 

“‘S alright, mate. It’s too early to be thinkin’.”

 

“... Yondu?”

 

“Yeah, Krags?”

 

“I need to piss again, could you move?”

**Author's Note:**

> I am a firm believer in shapeshifter Krags, and I believe that at some point or another, he DID, in fact, try to shapeshift himself a bigger bladder, but he looked awkwardly pregananant, so Yondu told him to stop it.  
> I DIDN'T ASK MY NORMAL BETA-READER TO LOOK THROUGH THIS ONE, SO IF YOU FIND ANY STRAY COMAS, OR MISSPELLINGS, LEMME KNOW, PLEASE!!


End file.
